


Sole Valentine

by The_Epitome_of_Pretense



Series: The Sole Saga [26]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Angst and Drama, Computer Viruses, Covert Operation, Disguise, Drama, Dreams, Dreamsharing, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, French Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, I Love You, Insecurity, Kissing, Near Death Experiences, Neck Kissing, Possession, Robot/Human Relationships, Slow Dancing, Tenderness, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Epitome_of_Pretense/pseuds/The_Epitome_of_Pretense
Summary: Sole has finally become Mrs. Valentine, but the honeymoon takes an unexpected turn.





	1. Unlikely Valentine

Dim candlelight filled their usual room at the Hotel Rexford. Sole’s hand lingered on the brass doorknob. Her heart was already pounding. She took a deep breath.

“Wait, don’t go in yet,” Nick said.

He scooped her up and carried her across the threshold. She held onto his coat. Her fingers grazed the hubflower he had stuck in the lapel.

“I almost forgot,” she said.

“We can’t let every tradition fall by the wayside, can we?” he said with a laugh.

She relished the soft curl of his lips, how every grin showed off his laugh lines. She couldn’t help but smile in return.

He set her back on her feet, then turned and took off his coat. She watched how the shape of his shoulders changed with every move. She took off her Pipboy and laid it on the dresser. A low, quiet song crackled over the radio. She turned up the volume just enough to be heard clearly.

“Heh. Is that supposed to be a hint?” he said.

Sole tried to think of a clever reply, but no words came to her. She turned the ring on her finger and gave a little shrug.

“Maybe,” she said.

From the corner of her eye, she could see him smirking. He stepped closer, matching his stride with the music.

“May I have this dance?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Have I ever said no?”

He took her hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. She fell into the stance without a thought. He began to sway, slowly, taking her in gentle circles. He put his lips to her ear.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” she replied.

She closed her eyes. She remembered how she used to stumble. Now dancing with him had become as natural as breathing. Her heart beat faster at the nearness of him; she wondered if he felt as nervous as she did. Yet when she tried to meet his look, he glanced away.

“Something on your mind?” she said.

“Georgia,” he said.

Sole chuckled.

“Besides Georgia.”

He paused a moment.

“Been a while since I’ve—” he cleared his throat. “Since I’ve danced with anyone. It might take me a minute to remember the steps.”

She ran her hand over his shoulder.

“Being on ice for two hundred years makes me worry if I can do them at all,” she said.

“We can take it easy,” he offered. “A slow dance.”

She nodded.

“Slow sounds perfect. Do you want to lead, or—would you rather I did?”

“No, no that’s alright. I’ll lead.”

“Okay.”

He stopped and squeezed her hand.

“But if you need me to take a step back or anything, just give me the word,” he said.

“I will. Same goes for you. If there’s anything you don’t like, or…”

She loosened his tie.

“Well…” he shook his head. “It’s not important.”

“No, tell me. I want to know.”

He hesitated.

“I’ll put it this way,” he said. “Teeth make me a little nervous. I’ve—I’ve only got so much skin left, you know?”

“So I shouldn’t nibble on your ear, or anything like that?”

“I didn’t say that. Just, if you do, be careful about it.”

“Like this…?”

She leaned in and took the side of his neck between her teeth, biting with gentle pressure as she worked her way down to his collar. She could feel him shudder.

“Yes,” he breathed, “just like that…”

She undid his top button and pulled the shirt aside. A quiet hum sounded from his chest.  

“Did that make you nervous at all?” she said.

“No. You don’t scare me,” he murmured. “I trust you too much.”

She drew away and looked him in the eye. Half-closed, soft in the dim light, they looked distant and focused all at once. She wanted to keep that look forever.

Yet she couldn’t; his eyes closed and his face drew too near to see. That same old question was on his lips. Finally, she could answer.

He kissed her as he had countless times before, mouth open, gently; but there was something different in it this time—a starving desperation that she sensed had always lurked just below the surface, kept carefully in place.

Now the barriers were broken and thrown down.

Now he grappled to her, melting to her shape, matching her every move, inhaling every touch as though he had just come up for air. His hands traced her spine, trembling as they did so. She unfastened his suspenders. He unfolded his arms from around her just long enough to finish unbuttoning his shirt and toss it away. Then he returned and opened her blouse, pulling it aside so he could kiss the bare skin of her shoulder. The dress slipped to the floor.

She ran her hands over his back, memorizing the shape, the smooth texture, the gentle heat. Her heart grew sick with anticipation. She swayed on her feet. He caught her up and carried her to the bed. The old mattress springs groaned under their weight, but Sole didn’t notice. All she felt was how the cushioned surface gave way to him. How his lips felt on her neck. How she couldn’t breathe fast enough.

He slipped a hand under her back and lifted her up, bending her into a crescent. A trail of kisses set her skin ablaze, starting at her shoulder, then her sternum, ending at the hollow under her ribs. There he lingered, leaving her in a breathless bliss.

“I can feel your heartbeat…”

“Let me share it with you.”

“Tell me again,” he said between kisses. “I want to hear it.”

“I love you,” she gasped, “so, so much.”

“I—” before he could finish the words, he grew tense.

He let her fall back to the bed. She wondered if something was wrong. Then she felt his cold hand drawing a line from her garter belt to her chest, coming to rest with his fingers twined about her neck. It gave her pause—she hadn’t expected him to do that.

“Be careful with me,” she said.

He made no reply. She felt his fingers pressing tighter. Metal dug into her skin.

She struggled to breathe.

“Step back,” she said.

His grip tightened further. A pang of fear spurred her heart to a faster beat. She tried to pry his hand away.

“Nick—step back.”

She met his eyes. All the softness had fled, leaving only the focus. Even that was different. It wasn’t focus, assertion, or even desire—it was rage. Grim, calculating vengeance.

She couldn’t speak. Her head pounded from the pressure on her neck. She gave him a pleading look.

“How many months has it been?” he said slowly.

Nick spoke, but the voice was not his. She had heard that voice before.

Her blood ran cold.

“How many months have I been trapped in here, forced to listen to all this romantic bullshit?” he said. “I was going to wait a little longer before trying this again, but if I have to hear one more ‘ooh sugar-circuits, I love you so much,’ I swear I’m going to lose it. And as much as I’d like to literally fuck you over right now, I can’t take one more minute of this. I’m getting out of here.”

A malicious scowl twisted his face, marring the sweetness of his laugh lines.

“But don’t worry about me; I’ll bet the Institute will be real eager to learn all about your little Railroad and that island of runaways up north. Might even give me a brand new body for my troubles.”

Sole’s head swam. She tried to kick him away, to throw him off her, but he held fast. His weight bore her down. Shadows encroached on her sight. He squeezed tighter.

“Say hi to your first husband for me,” he said.

Then the shadows overtook her.


	2. Sole Seeker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sole hatches a plan to find Kellogg.

“Uranium Fever” echoed in Sole’s mind. She struggled to open her eyes. The motion struck her skull with a wave of pain. She groaned and pressed a hand to her brow. She then realized that she was trembling with cold.

She braced herself for another burst of pain and sat up. A relatively soft blanket covered the bed beneath her; she tucked her legs to her chest and pulled the blanket around her shoulders.

Her Pipboy sat on the dresser. That was why she had the song stuck in her head; she had left the radio on. She crossed the room and switched it off.

Her olive green dress lay on the floor. She glanced around the room for Nick, but he was gone.

Kellogg was gone.

The memory alone almost stopped her heart. Her thoughts went scatter-shot; she had to do something—but what, she couldn’t say. She found herself pacing back and forth with indecision. Her heart raced, on the verge of panic; her breath came in short bursts; and still her head pounded and her neck ached.

She glanced again at the clothes on the ground. Her mind was too burdened with shock to make a plan, but for now, she could at least get dressed.

Stockings and heels, short and practical as they may be, were hardly a fitting wardrobe for a hunt, but she didn’t care. She didn’t have any time to waste.

She all but ran down to the front desk. Her hands shook; she did her best to calm her nerves as she approached. Something told her it would be a bad idea to let on what happened; more likely than not, Kellogg believed he had killed her. If she wanted to track him down without his knowledge, she would have to lie low and keep it cool.

The front desk stood empty. Sole rang the service bell. A moment passed. She rang again, struggling not to crush the bell into the counter. Not that she could have. But she wanted to.

After another minute, Clair emerged from a back room.

“You better have a damn good reason for waking me up at this hour,” she said.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but—wait, what time is it?”

“One in the morning.”

“Has Mr. Valentine checked out?”

“Yeah, he left about fifteen minutes after checking in. My condolences for your honeymoon.”

 _You have no idea,_ she thought.

“Um—thank you,” she said, then made her way out the door.

Sole pulled her hat close around her ears. She needed to think, but her thoughts ran wild with worry. How could she have forgotten? When she first heard Kellogg’s voice in the Memory Den, it had chilled her to the bone. But in the midst of everything that followed—building the teleporter, finding Shaun—the memory had gotten lost. She could have kicked herself.

She shoved her hands into her pockets and tried to focus on the rhythm of her heels on the pavement. She had to get to the Railroad first to warn them. But Kellogg had several hours’ head start. The thought made her want to run, but she couldn’t do that very well in her slip-on heels.

She considered finding a chem dealer. A good hit of Buffout would do the trick. She sighed and wrapped her arms tight around her middle. It took two weeks for her to recover from the overdose on Far Harbor, and she didn’t care to go through that again. On top of it all, she had promised Nick that she wouldn’t do any more chems. Even if it meant that she couldn’t save him.

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away and took a deep breath. Now was not the time to panic. Now was the time to think.

Kellogg said he would rat them out to the Institute; how would he get there? It made Sole glad she never mentioned to Nick that her Pipboy could take her back. If she went to the Railroad, would he be there waiting for her? She needed to get there fast; instantly would be ideal—she needed a teleporter.

She pulled up her Pipboy and targeted the Institute on her map. It made her sick to go there for help, but that issue could wait.

Just as she was about to send the teleport command, she caught herself. If Kellogg had already made it to the Railroad, she couldn’t just waltz in and not expect to tip him off. She needed something more covert and practical than a dress. She needed a disguise. She raced back into the heart of town.

She burst through the doors of the Memory Den, glad that the parlor was always open. Irma regarded her with a lazy interest from her fainting couch, but said nothing. Sole dashed to Kent’s door and knocked so hard that her knuckles went numb.

“Kent? Are you in there? Please wake up, this is important,” she said. She knocked again.

“Ugh… who is it?” he said.

“It’s me. Hurry, I need to talk to you.”

She could hear the rattle of a belt buckle as he pulled on his trousers. He opened the door, only midway through buttoning up his shirt. She noticed that he had gotten them crooked, but said nothing.

“Shroud? What’s going on?”  

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah—is everything okay?”

“Far from it. I’ll explain in a minute. Actually—no; the less you know, the better. You’ve still got my costume, right?”

“Yeah, right over here.”

“Thanks.”

Sole shut the door behind her and strode over to the mannequin that wore her Silver Shroud ensemble. Without a word, she slipped out of her dress and tossed it on the couch.

“Uh—uh—Shroud?” he said. “Listen, I know I’m your biggest fan and all, but I don’t feel good about—I mean, now that you’re married and all—say, don’t you have a honeymoon to get back to?”

“Just turn around,” she said. “Sorry, but I don’t have time for proprietary. Once this nightmare is over, I promise I’ll explain everything. For now, I need you to hold onto my dress until I get back. Do not, I repeat, do not lose my hat. And if anyone asks, I was never here.”

“Sure. Okay. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on? I might be able to help.”

She wrapped the silver scarf around her neck and donned the matching hat. She crossed the room to face him.

“I don’t want you knowing any more than you have to,” she said. “If the bad guys came after you again, I wouldn’t forgive myself. And where would the Silver Shroud be without her man in the chair?”

He gave a little smile. She thought she saw a blush on his thin cheeks.

“Gee whiz. You give me too much credit.”

She almost lost it then. His eyes held such an innocent, genuine affection that she almost broke down and told him everything. But as much as she wanted to tell someone, she couldn’t put him at risk. She pulled him into a tight hug, kissed his cheek, then hurried out the door.

Sole checked her reflection in the office window on her way out. It was far from a perfect disguise; Kellogg might remember the outfit. She hoped that she had worn it seldom enough that he would overlook her in a crowd. The hat and coat certainly helped hide her form, but Kellogg would definitely recognize her face. She stuffed her hair up inside the hat. It was better, but still not quite enough. Then she noticed a pair of large, round, white sunglasses on the side table. She dug a handful of caps out of her pocket and left them in place of the sunglasses.

“I wouldn’t take those if I were you,” Irma said.

“Huh?”

“The lady who left them here was one scary piece of work. Looked like she had seen the Devil and laughed.”

“If she comes back, tell her I’ll give them back and let her keep the caps too. I have to get going.”

Irma shrugged and settled back onto the couch. Sole tried to look nonchalant as she left the den. She stepped into the nearest alley, made sure she was alone, then hit the teleport command. A bolt of light blinded her. Now the sound of violins filled her head.

She prayed she wasn’t too late.


	3. Underground Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With few options and even less time, Sole tries to tie up the biggest loose end.

The Institute materialized around her. Sole didn’t waste a moment, but dashed to the teleporter’s control panel. Just as she was about to hit the command, a thought made her pause. 

She had to make sure that if all else failed—if Kellogg did find a way into the Institute—that they wouldn’t do anything to Nick. She would still love him, even if they erased him. But to start from square one, just when they had finally become man and wife? The thought made her want to cry. She had already walked a long road to get what she had. She wouldn’t let Kellogg take that away.

She ran to the elevator and slammed the call button so hard that she marveled how it didn’t shatter. She fidgeted and tapped her foot while she waited; it was getting harder and harder to pretend that she wasn’t panicking. 

Within a few minutes, she stood at the door to Shaun’s rooms. She pounded on the metal panel. A moment passed before he answered. 

He looked at her with tired confusion. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then looked again. 

“If you’ve finally decided to support our cause, you could have waited until the morning to tell me,” he said. 

“I still haven’t decided yet. I’m sorry,” she lied. “But I need to talk to you about something very important. Many lives are in danger.”

He seemed to wake up a little. 

“What is it?”

“You know about the Gen3 prototypes, don’t you? The ones who escaped a hundred years ago?”

“Yes, I’m aware. They’re quite the urban legend down here.”

“I need you to follow these instructions very carefully. Please don’t ask why—just do this for me. If you never do me another favor, at least do this.”

A look of gentle concern came into his eyes. 

“Tell me what you need,” he said. 

“If one shows up, I need you to restrain the prototype immediately. Don’t even let him speak. Just keep him contained and keep him quiet. But most importantly, please don’t hurt him. Don’t let the scientists erase him. Please.”

“You know that prototype is Institute property. It may be obsolete tech, but it is still ours. You want me to defer to you about something that belongs to us?”

She grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Shaun, listen,” she said. Her voice began to waver. “I can’t begin to tell you how important this is to me. There are lives at stake, including someone I care about very deeply.”

She hoped he wouldn’t question the matter. She couldn’t tell him that the Institute itself was the threat she was trying to defend against. 

His eyes grew distant with thought. A struggle crossed his features. He sighed. 

“Alright. I’ll give the order to alert you if the need arises.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry to ask, but I need one more thing.”

“What is it?”

She met his eyes. 

“Promise me that after all this gets sorted out, you’ll let the prototype leave with me.”

“Why—?”

“Please,” she said. “Do this for your mother.”

He regarded her with a confused look, but compassion mingled in his expression. 

“Well,” he said. “I suppose it won’t be a problem if one escaped prototype remains missing. I promise we’ll let it go.”

Sole let her eyes trace over his features, struck by how much he resembled his father. Maybe Nate would have looked like that if he had been given the chance to grow old. But the eyes—those eyes that softened at her request—those were hers. She could never accept the Institute, nor forgive them for what they’ve done. But knowing that her son was not a monster—misguided and out of touch, maybe, but not a completely heartless monster—it made a lump rise in her throat. In spite of the Institute’s best effort, he still had some of his father’s kindness. And that would have to do.

She reached up and brushed a lock of gray hair away from his eyes. 

“That’s my boy,” she whispered. 

He gave a sad smile. Without another word, she turned and started toward the teleporter.

Her heart slowed somewhat. She steadied her breath. Even if Kellogg had made it to the Railroad, even if he did find a way into the Institute before she could confront him, at least he wouldn’t be able to do anything once he got there. He was too smart to show his hand before getting his end of the bargain. Everything would be fine—if Shaun followed through on his promise. She hoped he would.

Another thought struck her—why would Kellogg even go to the Railroad in the first place? She almost laughed at how foolish she felt at the realization. All her hurry, just to get somewhere that he more than likely would not be. He already knew where it was, and they didn’t have the tech to teleport people, not since the one she helped to build was destroyed—

Her heart skipped a beat. They didn’t have a teleporter, but they did have the blueprints to build one. 

If Kellogg’s plan was just to get those designs, would he even bother with keeping up appearances as Nick? Or would he just kill everyone inside and take what he needs?

Her heart nearly stopped. Having seen what Kellogg could do, what he was willing to do, having been inside his head, she didn’t have to guess which course he would choose. 

She stopped and forced herself to take a breather before going on. She couldn’t let herself waste time by acting on the wrong conclusion again—she needed to think. 

If Kellogg had his old body, this wouldn’t be as much of a problem. He wouldn’t make it past the front door. But he would be in Nick’s body, with all the perks that entailed: he would be stronger than any human, and faster too; he might be able to tap into Nick’s computer know-how to hack their defenses; worst of all, he would be able to walk right in without question. Sole needed a non-lethal way to deal with him. A way to safely neutralize a synth. 

She needed a control band. 

She all but ran to the robotics wing. To her dismay, one scientist had yet to retire for the night. He sat slumped over a desk, his shoulders rising and falling with a gentle rhythm. A quiet snore broke the stillness. 

Sole almost laughed. She stepped past him with as much stealth as she could manage and began searching the lab. She opened every drawer and cabinet she could find, but saw nothing that resembled a control band. Then again, she didn’t know exactly what they looked like. All she had to go on was Nick’s stories. 

She opened the next cabinet with less care than before. A stack of papers tumbled to the floor. 

Sole froze. She glanced at the scientist, hoping that the noise hadn’t disturbed him. 

He lifted his head from the desk. 

_ Damn it,  _ she thought. 

She got to her feet and tried to look like she hadn’t been outright snooping. 

“Hey there,” she said. “Don’t mind me. I lost an earring in here earlier.”

When he turned to look at her, Sole recognized him at once. It was Liam, known to the Railroad as Patriot. She brightened. She couldn’t believe her luck. 

“Who...?” he blinked the sleep from his eyes. “Oh, hello again.”

“Thank goodness I ran into you; you’re just the guy I want to talk to,” she lowered her voice. “I need your help with a delicate matter. It’s a issue of synth freedom”

“What’s up?”

“I don’t know if you guys even use these anymore, but I need a control band. Could you help me find one?”

“I have one.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, it’s standard procedure for everyone in robotics to have one. Just in case of a malfunction.”

“That’s perfect. Can I have it?”

“Sure, but why? You know it won’t work on Gen3s, right?”

“I know. I don’t have time to explain why I need it.”

He seemed to think it over. His brow furrowed in drowsy contemplation. At last, he shrugged. 

“If it helps the cause,” he said.

He took a folded bit of metal from his pocket and handed it to her. 

“Thank you.”

He stood and stretched, stifling a yawn. 

“Well, goodnight. It’s been nice seeing you again, if it was a bit strange,” he said. 

“Wait, before you go,” Sole said, “can I ask you one more thing?”

“Hmm?”

“Is there a way to—ah—take down a Gen2 without killing him?”

He scratched his chin. 

“A modified pulse mine ought to do it.”

“Modified how?”

“Take off the back and dial down the power. Didn’t you know how to do that?”

“Not until today.”

“Oh. Anyway, about half power should neutralize it without destroying the circuits.”

“Liam, you are more valuable than you know,” Sole said. 

“Thanks, I guess—hang on,” he stared at her neck. 

“What?”

“Are those,” he hesitated, “bruises? You might want to stop by the medical wing.”

Sole wrapped the scarf higher around her. 

“I’ll do that later,” she said. “For now, I need to get going. Thank you for your help.”

“Of course.”

With that, she dashed out the door and made her way to the teleporter. 


	4. Railroad Crossing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sole teams up with the Railroad to take down Kellogg.

Morning had just begun to to lift the gloom from the Commonwealth, but a blue haze still hung over the ruins of Boston. Sole made her way down through the remains of the collapsed building, careful not to disturb the piles of rubble and debris. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of going through the back entrance. The smell always made her want to puke, but taking the front entrance was not an option. For starters, she didn’t want to compromise the main door by using it all the time; in addition, the back door was closer to Bunker Hill, where she had teleported. She had been a fool many times that night, but she had enough sense not to teleport to the Railroad directly. 

Her shoes were still wet when she made it into headquarters. She peeked around the corner to the main room. To her relief, there was no sign of Kellogg. 

Desdemona was already up, absorbed in studying a map. Sole didn’t bother keeping a calm appearance. She rushed over to her. 

“Nice outfit,” Desdemona said. “Did Deacon put that together for you? Seems about the level of subtlety he goes for.”

“There’s been a disaster,” Sole said. 

She looked up from her work, a sharp, calculating look in her eye. 

“How bad are we talking?”

“I’ve tried to contain the damage, but if my measures fail, it’ll be very bad. And not just for us, but for all the synths in Far Harbor, too.”

“What happened?”

“Has Nick been here?”

“No, I haven’t seen him. Now will you tell me what the hell happened?”

“Kellogg happened.”

“I thought you took care of him.”

“I thought so too, but he’s not gone. He’s been hiding in Nick’s mind ever since Amari helped us with the memory probe. Last night he—he took control and ran off with Nick’s body. He said he was going to contact the Institute and give away our position.”

Desdemona’s expression remained stoic, but her skin paled. 

“This is a serious breach. Do you know how much time we have before the coursers show up and all hell breaks loose?”

“I bought us some time. I went to the Institute and told Father to restrain him and keep him quiet if he does find a way there. That’s why I came here next; I know you have copies of the teleporter blueprints. If Kellogg decides to take them, he won’t think twice about gunning down everyone in his way.”

Desdemona nodded. 

“I’ll have the team beef up defenses and put everyone on alert for that wolf in synth’s clothing.”

“Tell everyone to use non-lethal force only. We can’t let Nick get hurt in all this.”

Desdemona gave her a stern look. 

“There’s a lot of people at stake here, Charmer. Not just Nick. I’ll do what I can to protect him, but you need to make peace with the fact that he might get caught in the crossfire.”

The thought turned Sole’s stomach. Before she could stop herself, her mind filled to the brim with images of Nick laying lifeless on the ground, the glow gone from his eyes. Sole swallowed the lump in her throat. 

“I have some things that could help us,” she said, pulling the control band from her pocket. “If we can lure Kellogg in, let him believe that we buy his ruse, I’ll have a chance to get this around his neck. Then he won’t be able to do a thing, no matter how hard he tries.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“How many pulse mines do you have?” 

“Plenty, but I don’t see how that helps us save Nick.”

“It will if we dial down their blast output. Patriot told me how to do it. And don’t worry, I didn’t compromise him while I was there.”

Desdemona regarded her with an unreadable look. 

“Alright. Let’s see what we can do,” she said. “I just have one last question.”

“What?”

“What’s the end goal here? What does Kellogg get out of all this?”

Sole couldn't help but scowl at the mention of his name. The fact that he was using her husband's body to betray everyone she wanted to protect—it made her blood boil. 

“A new body of his own,” Sole said, then added in a grumble. “Another chance to make a mess of the Commonwealth.”

“Like hell he will. I’ll get Tinker Tom started on those mines.”

She turned to leave. Sole glanced at the map on the table. The path marked on it crossed over a spot she had passed by just a few days before—a spot overrun with Gen1s and 2s. 

“Wait,” she said, pointing to the map. “Is the next refugee relocation going through this place here?”

“That’s the plan.”

“You can’t go that way, it’s crawling with Institute surveillance.”

“It may be risky, but we’ve gone that way before. Didn’t you see these charts last time you were here?”

“No, I—”

A chill ran up her spine. She could be downright oblivious at the best of times, but not much got past Nick. She would have bet money that he had noticed the map. And that meant Kellogg would have seen it too.

That was why Kellogg had yet to make an appearance. He wasn’t planning to attack the Railroad at all. 

“I didn’t see the map,” she said, “but I’ll bet Nick did.”

Realization dawned on Desdemona’s face. She scowled.

“Then his plan isn’t to build a teleporter,” she said.

“Why would he,” Sole said, “when it would be so much easier to find a courser?”

“We have to call off the operation. Immediately.”

“Or,” said a third voice. 

It came from the hallway to the back entrance. Before Sole could react, Deacon stepped dramatically around the corner. 

“We could set up a trap,” he said. 

Desdemona let out an exasperated breath. 

“What on earth were you doing back there?” she said. 

“Testing out my latest disguise. Which was a success, by the way.”

“What disguise was that?”

“A sleeping guy.”

She rolled her eyes. 

“It’s too early for this,” she mumbled, then added, “So what’s this trap idea?”

“We pull off the relocation according to plan, except instead of a refugee, we escort one of our own guys. I’ll be nearby in a courser’s uniform, waiting to be found.”

“Well, I like it better than risking headquarters. Make it happen.”

“I’ll meet with the escorts and tell them about the switch,” Sole offered.

“I’ll dispatch a messenger to warn Acadia and make sure everyone here knows the plan,” Desdemona said.

“I’ll get my other pair of sunglasses,” Deacon said. “Aaaaaand, break!”


	5. To Catch a Kellogg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kellogg won't get away that easy.

From her place on top of a building, Sole watched the three women below. They carried their weapons at the ready. Glory, who led the group, scanned the area with a cautious air. Sole scanned with her. The sounds of a distant fire fight echoed through the streets. They continued by the north side of the building. She turned her attention to the other side; to the south, not far down the road, two Gen1s and a Gen2 were making their rounds. 

Movement caught her eye. A man emerged from an empty door and approached the synths. Sole didn’t need her scope to tell it was Nick; from the way he carried himself, she knew that Kellogg was still in control. There was something aggressive in his movements, in how the sway of his shoulders had become more pronounced. She crept closer to the south edge of the roof until she was in earshot. 

The synths raised their weapons at him. Sole could just make out his words.

“Units, initiate stand down protocol, passcode four-sixteen-b,” he commanded. 

The synths reverted to their default stance. 

“How may we be of assistance?” the Gen2 said. 

“I need you to take a message to the Institute. Tell them that an escaped synth has been located, and give them the coordinates for one hundred yards east of here. Head one block west before transmitting the message; I don’t want the runaways to pick up any radio interference.”

“Understood.”

“Oh, one more thing. Tell the courser that Kellogg will be returning with them, so be looking for me.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Now get going.” 

They started westward at a faster pace. Sole waited until Kellogg had ducked into the alleyway and emerged on the north side, then took aim and dropped all three synths, starting with the Gen2. Working in such close proximity to her target made her glad she had added a suppressor to her rifle. The gunshots in the distance helped, too. When she was sure that each one had a bullet in its head, she went back to surveilling the decoys. 

Kellogg caught up to them. Glory turned at the sound of his approach and raised her weapon. 

“Who’s there?” she said.

Kellogg raised his hands. 

“Don’t shoot. It’s just me,” he said.

“Nick? What are you doing out here?”

“Sole told me she would be helping you guys with this mission. She wanted me to meet her.”

“You sound different than you used to.”

“Took an energy blast right in the vocals. You can thank our green neighbors for that. So I take it you haven’t seen her?”

“No. In fact, I was never informed that she meant to accompany us.”

Sole held her breath.

_ Come on, Glory. Don’t act too suspicious, _ she thought.

“But I suppose you can come along, since you’re here,” Glory added. “We could always use an extra gun.”

Sole let out the breath. 

“Thanks,” Kellogg said. “I’m out of ammo, but I’ll do what I can. I hope things haven’t been too eventful.”

Glory didn’t fall for his ploy, but merely shrugged. 

“Just some ferals, but those were easy enough to deal with.”

They drew further away. Sole had to strain to hear them. Then Glory scratched the back of her head—that was her cue.

Sole tossed a rope into the alley and slid down to the ground. There she planted a device that Tinker Tom had built just for the occasion, flipped the switch, and started after the group. When exactly fifteen seconds had elapsed, there came a sound like a bolt of lightning echoing through a metal chamber—just like a teleportation beam. 

“What was that?” the faux refugee said. 

“I don’t know,” Glory muttered, “But I don’t like it. Come on, through here.”

Sole waited by the exit of a narrow alley. She could hear their footsteps entering from the other side. Taking great care, she placed one of the modified pulse mines at the corner. Then she doubled back around the building and placed another at the other end. It was an extra precaution; she hoped they wouldn’t have to make use of it. She pulled the control band from her pocket, unfolded it, and held it tight by the handle. 

Her heart raced with anticipation. Her stomach churned with fear. Now that she was so close to getting Nick back, she felt deeply how much losing him would desolate her. She took a deep breath and forced herself to focus. 

Deacon’s voice met her ears. 

“Stop right there,” he said in a stern voice. “One more move, and you’re dead.”

She chanced to peek around the corner, keeping her distance from the mine. Deacon had emerged from a side door, clad in a stolen courser uniform, and put a laser pistol to Glory’s head. Everyone had their hands up and was staring at the scene—even Kellogg. Now was her chance.

She crept into the alley after them, picking her way silently along. 

“We don’t want any trouble. We’re just passing through,” Glory said.

“Don’t play dumb. We all know what is going to happen,” he turned to the woman playing the part of the refugee. “Let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be. Come with me quietly.”

Then Sole heard the last sound she expected: laughter. Hollow, exhausted laughter. 

“You aren’t from the Institute,” Kellogg said. 

“Stand down, Gen2,” Deacon said. “I will deal with you momentarily.”

Kellogg laughed again. Sole hurried her steps.

“See, there are two things I know for sure. One, this body is a prototype, not a Gen2. And two, a real courser wouldn’t stop to chat up the obstacle between him and his target.”

Deacon faltered, but immediately regained his composure. Anyone else might not have noticed. 

“This one is also an escaped synth,” he said. “I need to bring both of them in.”

Just a few more yards to go. Then it would all be over. Sole could barely breathe.

“Sure you do,” Kellogg said. 

Sole ran the last few steps. She lunged at him, aiming the control band for his neck. 

In a blink, she found herself on her back, the mark of his hand stinging her face. A struggle broke out; everyone reached out to restrain him, but he shook them off. The sound of metal hitting skin filled the alley. A series of thumps, one after another, met her ears. When the world stopped spinning around her, Sole found Glory and Deacon and the others struggling to their feet. Kellogg bolted for the main road. Sole leapt up and started after him. If she could get him before he reached the end of the alley—

Too late. The mine detonated in a flash of blue light. He crumpled to his knees and dropped to the ground. She sprinted to him. There was no way to know how long the effects of the pulse would keep him down. She crouched beside him and hurried to secure the control band around his neck. He rolled onto his back and grabbed her by the wrists. His grip was weaker than before—even so, it was enough to keep her at bay. She put a knee to his middle and brought her full weight down on him. His hold loosened. She pushed past his hands and forced his head to the side so she could get at his neck. 

Before she could get the control band in place, he shoved her off, then rolled on top and pinned her to the ground. 

“I knew I should have put some lead between your eyes for good measure,” he growled. “That’s twice that I’ve made that mistake. I promise our next meeting will be very different.”

“You bastard, I’ll end you,” she said through gritted teeth.

He began to reply, but was cut off when a dark blur rammed into him. Deacon grappled with him, pinioning his arms to his sides. 

“The band, quick!” he shouted.

Sole scrambled to her feet. Kellogg broke free and turned to run. Deacon grabbed him by the ankle and held on. Before Sole could get a clear shot, Kellogg punched Deacon in the jaw. A sickening  _ thwack _ echoed through the street. Deacon let go. 

Kellogg sprinted away with more than human speed. From the corner of her eye, Sole could see Glory and the others raising their weapons.

“Wait—don’t!” she said. 

“We can’t let him get away,” Glory said, taking aim. 

Sole’s mind reeled. She knew they would aim for the head; it was the most efficient way to take down a synth like him. Panic overwhelmed her, closing her lungs and stopping her heart.

Without thinking, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pulse grenade. It wasn’t modified. She had brought it along in case there were more Gen1s and 2s than her rifle could handle. It would bring Kellogg down for sure—but it might kill Nick in the process. But between that or a bullet, the choice was clear.

She prayed that her aim would be true.

She pulled the pin and released the handle, then waited the span of one heartbeat before throwing. She wanted to make sure that it would detonate midair. Before she could hesitate, before she could lose her nerve, she threw it at Kellogg. 

She threw it at Nick. 

She threw it at her husband.

The grenade seemed to arc through the air in slow motion. It drew closer to its target. Then came the blast and the flash of blue light. When the haze cleared from Sole’s eyes, she saw him lying on the ground. 

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. All the horrible things she had imagined flashed before her eyes. The others darted past her and gathered around him. They knelt and held him down.

“Charmer, get over here,” Glory shouted. 

“Is he…?”

“He’s alive, now get that band on him!”

She sprinted to join them. They struggled to keep him still; his whole body jerked and convulsed. She snapped the band around his neck. The convulsions diminished. 

Sole’s chest heaved from exertion. She let herself relax. It was over.

“That’s it, then,” Glory said, out of breath. 

“Go team,” Deacon mumbled. 

Sole looked to the sound of his voice. He still lay face down in the dirt. 

“You good?” she said. 

Deacon gave her a thumbs-up. Glory helped him to his feet. 

“Nick is gonna owe me big time for that,” he said, rubbing the red mark on his cheek. 

Sole and Glory hefted Kellogg upright with his arms across their shoulders. 

“Come on, let’s get him to Goodneighbor,” Sole said. 

“Wait,” Deacon said, “I think there’s one thing that needs to be said first.”

“Good grief, you’re right. Would you like the honors, or should I do it?”

“Go for it, by all means. After all, it is your husband’s kidnapper.”

Sole grinned. She leaned close to Kellogg’s ear. 

“Kellogg,” she said, “your flakes are  _ frosted _ .”

He gasped for breath. 

“F...fuck you,” he muttered. 


	6. Direct Access

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sole enters Nick's mind to confront Kellogg.

Dr. Amari bent over the memory pod, arranging the extra wires that she had run to the interior. She turned Kellogg’s head to the side and sought out the data port.

“Careful, he’s not going to like that,” Sole said. “Let me give you a hand.”

She put pressure on his shoulders and held him to the seat. He jerked as Amari snapped the wire into place, but the control band restrained him.

“Last chance,” he said through gritted teeth. “Let me go, or I’ll destroy every bit of code in this rust bucket.”

“And destroy yourself with him?” Sole scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s the end of the line for me either way. I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Nothing but your pride. I know your type. Giving up isn’t your style; you’ll fight me tooth and nail right to the end.”

He scowled at her.

“Maybe,” he said. “But are you willing to risk it?”

Her heart leapt into her throat. She wasn’t willing to risk it, not for her own sake. But there were greater things at play. She kept her expression neutral and turned to Amari.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said.

She stepped into the other pod and situated herself in the seat. The tight space reminded her too much of the cryo pod in Vault 111; she swallowed down the hint of fear and took a deep breath. Amari paused before closing her in.

“I don’t know what you’re going to see in there,” she said. “I assume it won’t be any different from last time, but with months to prepare, who knows what Kellogg has changed. I’ve written a code-destroying program to send in with you; it should answer to you alone. You’ll know it when you see it. And be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me. That bastard has a woman scorned to deal with, and you know what they say about those.”

“What do they say?”

“That Hell hath no fury like one.”

Amari smirked.

“Go get ‘em,” she said.

She closed the pod, sealing Sole inside.

Her vision grew dark. A yellow light gleamed in the distance. She started for it without hesitation.

Soon she found herself in the midst of the light; it formed the hazy ghost of a brick tunnel with an arched ceiling, similar to a subway. As she continued along, it became more and more solid until it looked no different than the real thing. She could even see moisture glistening on the walls. Her shoes clicked on the concrete floor.

Something echoed in the distance. She paused. The sound drew nearer, like the rushing of wind through the trees, approaching fast and unstoppable. It was a voice.

“...Are all synths as funny as you are?”

It was her voice. It rushed by and was gone. A minute passed in silence; Sole wondered if she would hear herself again. She continued down the dimly lit hallway. She couldn’t say where any of the light came from; it seemed not to have a source.

Another gust.

“...That you miss being touched?” her voice said.

She kept walking. Her voice hit her in one burst after another.

“...You’re a good man...”

“...It’s not your fault…”

“...I’ll take everything. Just as you are. Wires and all…”

“...Whatever you decide…”

Sole paused again. She remembered when she said that to him. It was just after learning about DiMA; Nick had been so unsure of himself. He needed encouraging.

“I’ve got your back,” she said.

A door appeared to her right; she opened it and looked inside. Darkness met her. She opened the door wider, hoping to let in some light.

“Lenore?” she whispered.

As soon as the word left her lips, she heard a chorus of muffled bangs. Fluorescent lights illuminated the room; it was a stark, empty chamber the size of a baseball diamond, with brick pillars and arches at regular intervals. Sole thought the place looked like a subterranean storage room.

Her footsteps seemed to echo indefinitely in the empty air. She continued deeper into the room, hoping that another door would appear. A gentle tapping sound met her ears, accompanied by a rustling like the flapping of wings.

“Who’s there?” she said.

From behind one of the pillars stepped a stately yellow raven. It glowed with its own light, not quite corporeal. It turned its eye on her.

“Are you a code destroyer?” she asked.

The raven remained silent.

“Nod if you are,” Sole added.

It dipped its head once.

“Are there more of you?”

The sound of a dozen more wings filled the space as an unkindness gathered around her. The soft glow they brought comforted her more than anything. She offered her arm, and one jumped to the perch.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” she said. “I don’t like being alone.”

The room shook with a distant rumble. Dust fell from the ceiling. She continued on in silence. The unkindness went with her.

The echo of her footsteps doubled. At first, she thought it was just how the room was. Then she realized that the pace was not her own. She turned to look behind her.

Kellogg stood not far away.

“I was wondering when you’d notice I’m here,” he said. “Took you long enough the first time.”

She stared down the man who had killed her first husband. Who had stolen her son. Who had kidnapped her groom. Yet she felt calm in spite of everything—it was nearly done. Now was not the time to panic, now was not the time to think, now was not the time to plan and scheme. Now was the time to act. All that was left was to finish it.

“As much as I love banter between enemies, I have nothing to say to you,” she said. She pulled her gun from its holster. “Shall we?”

He looked her up and down.

“Gonna shoot me with my own gun?” he said. “Huh. Isn’t that poetic.”

It was his gun. She had made it so with a thought. The raven on her other arm fluttered a wing. She pulled back the hammer.

“I thought it was fitting, since you tried to kill me with my own husband.”

With one fluid motion, she took aim and fired. The shot tore through his brow. A spray of blue pixels clouded around the wound. Then they reformed, and he looked as though nothing had happened.

“You know you can’t kill me in here. Can’t kill what’s already dead.”

“You’re right. I can’t,” Sole said.

With a flick of her fingers, the raven left its perch and darted toward Kellogg. He jerked back. The bird fluttered around him, jabbing at his eyes. Each peck tore away a bit of his face, leaving a blue, pixelated gap in its place. He reached out with one hand and caught it around the throat. Sole watched his fingers close tighter around its neck. It struggled against him, beating him with its wings. Then it froze; Its image glitched. It disappeared.

The room shook a little harder than before.

“You’re going to have to do better than that,” he said.

Sole noticed that the damage done by the raven didn’t reform. She didn’t speak; there was nothing to say. She fired at him again and again, then sent the ravens in to gather the pieces before they returned to their place. Kellogg stumbled back. He lashed out blindly, trying to take hold of the destroyers, but they evaded him. He stopped fighting them and aimed his own gun at Sole. Before she could react, the shot tore through her heart.

The room shuddered so hard that it nearly knocked her off her feet.

Sole gasped. She looked to the wound, expecting a grisly mess. A splash of red met her vision, but it wasn’t blood—it was only pixels. She waited for them to reform. Yet the gaping hole remained. The unkindness crowded around her, looking to her for direction.

“Why doesn’t…” she muttered.

“That’s the thing. You’re not even really here,” Kellogg said, stepping closer. “Take enough damage, and the system tosses you right out. In this world, I’m the reality.”

“So what? I can fail as many times as it takes; you can only fail once. I’ll just keep coming back.”

“Good. Then I’ll get the pleasure of killing you all over again.”

He grasped her by the throat and squeezed.

The codes keeping her there weakened. She could feel her form coming apart. The room shook, showering them with dust.

A loud _crack_ split the air. A cluster of bricks sheared off from the ceiling and crashed down on Kellogg, bringing them both to the ground. She backed away, scrambling to get in a shot or two before he could get up.

The deafening sound echoed through the chamber. More pixels scattered around him; the ravens stole them away. He swatted one out of the air; it hit the floor and glitched into nothing. Then he lunged at her, aiming to snatch the pistol from her hand.

Just as she was preparing another shot, a brick wall formed between them, dropping down from the ceiling. Sole stared at it in disbelief. Had Kellogg done that to prevent her shot?

A spark sounded by her ear. Kellogg appeared beside her. Before she could flinch back, he threw his fist into her jaw. The force of the blow sent her sprawling. Her gun slid out of her grasp.

He stepped closer and put his boot on her stomach, holding her down. The ravens swirled around him, picking him away one pixel at a time. He ignored them. He reached down, dug his fingers into the hole in her chest, and tore away her collar.

She could not stop herself from screaming.

The room shook. The wall crumbled sideways. It collapsed in a heap on Kellogg and took him to the ground. Sole threw her arm up to protect her face from the falling bricks, but none hit her. She chanced to peek past her arm. The portion of the wall that should have done her in hovered just inches above her.

“Nick?” she said. “Are you with me?”

The wall righted itself. There wasn’t even a hint of dust on her black coat. More walls formed, one after another, boxing her in.

“Don’t worry about me—get him!” she said.

A grumbling filled the room as more walls built themselves between the columns. Sole dashed out of the alcove to find Kellogg running this way and that, blinking from place to place as the walls hemmed him in. She picked up her gun and aimed for his legs.

The shot tore apart his knee. He blinked away before the ravens could reach him. He ran on in spite of the damage. Then a wall formed in front of him; he couldn’t stop in time to avoid hitting it. He stumbled.

Sole fired shot after shot, peppering him with wounds. He stood to run again. Before he could take one step, nearly a dozen metal bars burst from the bricks and circled around his arms. They yanked back, slamming him to the wall. The structures held an eerie resemblance to skeletal human hands. Walls hemmed him in on all sides, but the one nearest Sole formed an arched doorway in the middle. Kellogg’s form blurred and glitched, but he couldn’t blink away.

Sole stepped through the door. The unkindness gathered around her. She held up a hand to keep them at bay.

“Well, Fortunato. I think you know how this will end. I'll take an apology if you have one.”

Kellogg grunted and struggled against the restraints.

“Get me to the Institute and I’ll give you anything you want,” he said. “They’ve got resources.”

“There’s not enough left of you to save.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” The desperation in his voice was evident. “I can get you caps, medicine, supplies for your settlements, you name it. Don’t you want to help your friends?”

Sole pretended to think it over.

“Anything I want?” she said.

“Anything.”

She looked him in the eye.

“I want my husband back.”

She let her hand fall and watched the code destroyers swarm over him. The archway of the vault snapped together, sealing his screams inside. The sound became frayed and fractured, and finally dissolved into nothing. A zigzagging fissure shot up the wall and cracked it in two. Then the four walls and columns collapsed in on themselves, echoing like the voices of a thousand waters.

A moment passed. The dust settled. Then the ravens, one at a time, emerged from the rubble and sauntered to her side.

“Nick?”

A sighing breeze passed through the chamber.

“I have to go now. I’ll see you on the other side.”

The breeze whispered through her hair, moving it away from her face, tickling the back of her neck. She smiled.

“I love you too,” she said.

The bricks gathered together, stacking themselves up into another doorway. She patted one of the ravens goodbye and stepped through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten caps to whoever can name all three Poe stories I reference in this one, lol


	7. Himself Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between being kidnapped and having his mind probed yet again, Nick Valentine is understandably upset.

When Sole opened her eyes, Dr. Amari had already opened the hatch to her pod. 

“Well?” she said, a nervous edge to her voice.

“We got ‘em,” Sole said. 

Amari smiled and helped her out of the pod. They turned their attention to Nick; he almost looked asleep. Amari lifted the hatch. Sole ducked inside, balancing a knee on the seat next to him, and patted his face. She noticed a new mark on his scalp, like he had been grazed by a bullet. She would have to ask him about it later. 

“Wake up, sugar. It’s over,” she said. 

He made a little grunt, almost too quiet to be heard. 

“Come on, Nicky, wake up. Let me see those pretty opticals of yours.”

His eyes fluttered open. After a moment of unfocused searching, they landed on hers. His look sharpened with something like surprise mixed with desperation. He shifted in the seat, his movements quick and strained, and lifted a hand just off the leather. He tried to speak, but could make no coherent sounds. Then Sole remembered that he was still wearing the control band.

“Sorry, let me get this thing off you,” she said. 

She turned his head to the side and removed the wire, then unfastened the band and set it on the floor of the pod. When she turned back to him, he was breathing hard. 

“Doll…” he said. His voice was strained to the breaking point, but it was undeniably his. 

He reached out to her. She could feel tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. With a laugh, she threw herself into his arms. He tried to hold her, but his grip was weak, and his his hands slipped. She positioned herself across his lap and pulled his arm over her shoulder, balancing it so he could hold her with little effort. His fingers clutched at her coat. She could feel a subtle trembling in his chest. 

Without a word, Dr. Amari ducked out of the room and headed upstairs. The sound of her footsteps faded away. 

“Are you okay?” Sole said.

He caught his breath. 

“No,” he whispered. 

She pressed him closer and nestled her face beside his.

“Oh sugar,” she said. “I know you don’t like having wires stuck in your head, but they’re gone now. It’s over.”

“No, it’s—” he couldn’t finish. 

She stroked the back of his neck. 

“Is it the blacking out that’s bothering you?” she said. “I suppose it can’t be fun waking up somewhere different.”

“I didn’t—” he shuddered, “I didn’t black out.”

He closed his eyes tight and caught his breath again.

A moment passed before Sole understood the gravity of that statement. A chill struck her heart.

“You were awake the whole time? Even when Kellogg…” she gestured to her neck.

His whole body trembled now. He buried his face in her shoulder and stifled a groan. She held him tight. 

“I thought—” he muttered between gasps, “I thought I had—”

“Shh, don’t say it. Don’t even think it.”

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed.

“It’s not your fault,” a sick feeling turned her stomach. “If anything, it’s mine. You put yourself through this to help me find Shaun.”

She kissed his temple, then his cheek, then his shoulder. 

“You didn’t deserve this,” she added in a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

His strength began to return. He held her tighter. His voice broke forth in quiet, breathless groans that were just short of a cry. Tears spilled over her cheeks.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’m with you.”

Still he trembled. Still he clutched at her. In that moment, she would have shifted the stars to bring him comfort. She searched for something she could do. A line of verse came to mind.

“‘We grew in age—and love—together,’” she recited, “roaming the forest, and the wild; my breast his shield in wintry weather, and when the friendly sunshine smiled, and he would mark the opening skies, I saw no heaven—”

“—But in her eyes,” he finished for her. 

He tried and failed to steady his breath. She held his face close to hers, cheek to cheek, running her thumb along his jaw.

“Tell me what I can do to help you,” she whispered.

“I couldn’t stop him,” he breathed. “And you looked so scared—”

Just saying those words seemed to undo him. He gasped and shook harder than before. The sight sent a wave of pain through her limbs. She had never seen him so torn up.

He was falling apart. 

Sole wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held tight. 

“I’ve got you,” she said. “You’ll get through this. I’m here; I won’t let you go.”

She squeezed him until her arms shook from the strain. He held back another groan.

“I won’t let you go,” she repeated.

She shifted, pushing herself higher until she could bring his ear to her heart. There she held him. She didn’t keep track of the minutes that ticked by.

His trembling began to calm somewhat. She slipped back down to his level, leaving kisses all along the side of his face. He took her wrist in his good hand and pressed a thumb to her pulse. She kissed each knuckle. 

“Mr. Valentine,” she said.

“Mrs. Valentine.”

He twined his metal fingers into her hair. 

“Mrs. Valentine…” he whispered again. 

For a time they just breathed. Sole relished the gentle rise and fall, the pressure, the comforting heat. She struggled to keep her eyes open. 

“Hey Nick?”

“Mm...”

“I haven’t slept in about forty eight hours,” she mumbled.

He clutched her tighter to him.

“Don’t go yet,” he said. 

She nestled deeper into his embrace. 

“I’m fine right here if you are,” she said.

“Alright,” he said softly, the relief evident in his voice. 

“As long as you don’t mind being my pillow for a while,” she added.

He struggled to keep his voice steady, but she could hear the smile in his tone. 

“I’m right where I want to be,” he said.

His voice echoed in her dreams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to get MORE FEELS.  
> The poem cited is "Tamerlane," by Poe.


	8. Where We Left Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. and Mrs. Valentine spend a quiet evening together.

Dim candle light filled the washroom of her old house in Sanctuary. Sole had finally cleared out the last of the debris and hung the walls with fabric to hide the cracks. Thick steam filled the air. 

A hot plate with a pot of water lay next to the shower basin. It had taken Sole a full hour of scouring the tiles to get them clean, but the result was more than worth it. Now she sat on the cool surface, her bare legs folded beside her, washing away the dust she had gathered on the way to the settlement. A soft piano played on the radio. 

After all that had happened, she and Nick had agreed that some time away from the city would do them good. They had just arrived that morning. The quiet neighborhood almost charmed her into forgetting the cares of a few days before—of how close they had come to losing each other. She dipped her washcloth into the steaming water and listened to the gentle sounds it made. 

There came a knock at the door behind her. 

“Who is it?” she said, though she knew the answer. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling. 

“It’s me,” Nick said. “Codsworth said you needed a favor?”

She almost jumped to her feet and opened the door for him; it took all her will to stay where she was. 

“Come on in,” she said.

She heard the door slide open. A second passed before she heard it shut again. Nick began to speak, then fell silent. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” she said. 

The rustle of fabric met her ears as he slipped out of his coat and undid his tie. He cleared his throat. 

“So, what was that favor you needed?”

She gave a little shrug, but didn’t turn to look at him.

“Recite something for me?” she said.

She brushed the cloth across her shoulder, letting the water trickle down her back. He drew in a breath that she almost couldn’t hear. 

“Give me a minute to think,” he said. 

“Something on your mind?”

“No, not much.”

He tossed his clothes to the corner of the room. She could feel the air stir as he knelt down behind her. 

“Here,” she handed him the cloth. “There’s a spot on my back I just can’t seem to reach.”

The water murmured and rippled again. He touched the cloth to her skin, bringing with it a searing heat. She flinched away slightly.

“Ah—let it cool a little first,” she said. 

The heat disappeared. Then it returned, gentler this time. Her heart beat faster.

“Better?” he said. 

“Much,” she paused a moment to relish the sensation. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” he said, then added in a lower voice, “very good.”

“I’m glad. Thought of a poem yet?”

“Mmm…”

The heat roamed along her spine. He held her steady with a hand on her arm. 

“How about… ‘What finer thing is there,’” he began, “‘for two human souls…’”

“‘Than to feel that they are bound together.’” 

“‘To strengthen each other in all labors…’”

He grasped her wrist and lifted her arm out straight, then ran the cloth along its length, leaving a trail of kisses in its wake. A shudder ran through her body. 

His fingers caressed the marks on her neck, gentle and reverent. 

“To minister to each other in all sorrow…” he continued. 

His lips brushed her skin as he spoke. She cradled the back of his head, keeping him close, and tilted her head to expose the skin of her neck. 

“To… ah…” his words fell away. 

He moved closer and kissed her bruises. She pulled his arm around her waist, bringing his hand to rest on her hip. The cool touch almost made her forget their game. 

“To share with each other in all gladness,” she remembered. 

He kissed a path down to her shoulder.

“To be one with each other,’” he said, “‘in the silent, unspoken memories.”

The hand on her hip drew upward, stopping at her heart. She wondered if he could feel how furiously it pounded against her ribs. She wondered how all of this felt to him. 

“What is this like for you?” she said. 

He kissed her neck again and again. She struggled not to shy away from the sparks on her skin. 

“I feel…aware,” he said. “I keep expecting to… I don’t know. Slip away. But all of it is sharp, like I’m… like I’m alive to everything.” 

She pressed his hand closer, running her fingers along the ridge of his knuckles. 

“That sounds wonderful,” she said.

He let out a breath. She could sense the rush of air on her shoulder, feel the smile on his lips.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmured. “I didn’t realize how much.”

She wanted to tell him that she felt the same, but her voice failed her. She turned to him. His eyes, half-closed, glowed like the candles around them, steadfast as sunlight and sure as trust. She twined her arms around his neck and pulled herself close, catching him up in a kiss. He held her, breathless, his bare chest crushed to hers. A heat rose in her middle. He felt frigid in comparison. 

All the nervous feelings of their last encounter failed to return. Though they tried to encroach on her bliss, she pushed them down and kept them away. He was the man that made her feel safe; fear had no place when they were together. And now it truly was just them. 

She ached to be closer. She brought her lips to his ear. 

“Finally got you all to myself, Mr. Valentine,” she said.

He chuckled. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, “Mrs. Valentine.”

Finally, finally, after so long a wait, she could bring him near enough to suit her. 

She buried her face in his neck and ran her lips along his skin before giving him a gentle bite. 

He caught his breath, then let it go. His back moved beneath her hands. A shuddering sigh mingled with her own, his lips both firm and yielding against her shoulder.

The anticipation was more than she could withstand. 

She wanted the tethers of reality to fall away. She wanted to feel adrift on the candlelight and steam. She was ready—more than ready—to lose herself in his embrace. To lose herself more and more with each passing moment. 

To lose herself in loving him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey readers,  
> I know you were probably expecting an outright sex scene. I considered writing one, but after finishing the first draft I realized that I was just too uncomfortable with the subject matter to write it well. Sorry if I disappointed anyone; I'm just too Victorian for that type of story. Please accept this steamy fluff as an apology :[


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